


Find the Light

by S_Horne



Series: How Is This My Life? [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coma, Comatose Derek, M/M, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9496010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: “I can't picture my life without you. Actually, I don't even want to imagine my life without you. Please... don't make me.”/(Part of a series of stand alone one-shots)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters nor the show itself belong to me, but as the work is my own I do not give permission for it to appear anywhere else.

“When-” Stiles’ voice broke almost immediately as he began to talk. He cleared his throat and tried again, tightening his grip on Derek’s hand.

“When I first met you, you scared me. Terrified me, actually. Here I was, just a pale, skinny and defenceless teenager suddenly thrown into a whole new world of dangers and brooding recluses.” He took a steadying breath before he continued, his voice fighting against a lump in his throat. “I genuinely believed all of the threats at the start. I was terrified of your harsh stare and hated how you’d shoot down everything I’d suggest; also how you seemed to jump at every chance to throw me against a hard surface. However, I am glad we decided to use those opportunities for much more pleasurable times.” He managed a watery chuckle at that, but there was no humor in his voice when he spoke again.

“I can't picture my life without you. Actually, I don't even want to _imagine_ my life without you. Please... don't make me.”

Stiles wiped away the tears now falling down his face as he took another deep breath. “I love you, Derek. I love you _so_  much; you always know how to make me feel better or just how to make me smile. You act like the tough guy but you're a huge softy underneath it all. You're always there for everyone that needs it; you're beautiful, smart and you've even managed to develop a sense of humor.” Stiles poked the elder's side before wrapping his other hand around Derek's and lifting it to press it to his lips.

His voice shook with his next words. “If you were awake, you'd never let me talk so soppily.” The young man collapsed in tears over his husband's still body, the machines in the hospital room beeping loud enough to still be heard over the heart-wrenching sobs.

“How is this my life?” He cried into his husband's chest, the wires and tubes helping to keep Derek alive now only serving to reiterate the fact that they were in a hospital and not safely at home in their bed; their necessary purpose seeming almost mocking. Stiles sat up slightly to gaze at the emotionless face of the other man. “If you don't…”

He broke off, lifting his eyes to the ceiling in a hopeless attempt to stop his tears; “if you don't respond or talk or,  **God** , just  _move_  in the next few days, they're going to turn off your machine.”

Stiles began to cry again, broken sentences barely pushing past the gasps and tears. “Don't let them do it, Der. I  **need** you. I can't live without you; I love you so much…  _please._ ”

Hours passed as Stiles sobbed into his husband's unresponsive stomach. Their friends and family came at various points, checking in with doctors with diminishing levels of hope and pressing food and water into Stiles’ stubborn hands. All too soon Melissa McCall was shaking Stiles awake to send him home again as visiting hours had drawn to a close. Stiles looked up at her through swollen eyes and fruitlessly scrubbed at the tear-tracks staining his face. He nodded wearily as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, softly telling him that his dad was sitting outside to drive him home.

Dragging a hand down his face and knowing better than to argue - no matter how much he wanted to -, Stiles leant forward to place a kiss on his husband’s forehead.

“I promise I'll be back in the morning” he whispered, stroking the elder’s cheek with one hand and running a thumb along his knuckles with the other. As Stiles made to stand up, he felt a light pressure on his fingers. Mentally agreeing with the popular opinion that he needed to get away from these same four walls and get some actual sleep he chalked it up to nothing and made to step back, but failed to dislodge his hand from Derek's grip. Stiles' eyes widened in surprise as he frantically yelled for a nurse.

Stiles bent down again, hovering close to his lover’s face as he squeezed his hand. “Come on, Der; open your eyes – I know you're in there.”

Nurses and doctors suddenly crowded the bed, the machines filling the room only getting louder and more prominent with the flurry of activity. Despite combined efforts and angrily shouted commands to remove Stiles from the vicinity, the unconscious man in the middle of the commotion refused to give up his hold on the younger’s hand. The croaky voice was nearly lost in the chaos but –

“Stiles…”

It was finally and most definitely there.


End file.
